8-7-17: The Prom Date

Pre-prom photo with none other than The Prom Date herself, one Sarah Jane Fox.

 

So, it’s about time I wrote about The Prom Date.

With my term paper for this current class due this coming weekend (I was at the library Sunday getting no less than 20 sources for it) and me having babbled enough about how I was going to eventually recap said prom for the past year’s worth of blog posts, it’s a good time to talk about what turned out to be a pretty important event in my life. While I had previously talked about on the @fitzthoughts Instagram account but not gone into too much detail on other than showing some photos and saying ‘we went there for dinner’ and ‘we went to downtown Indianapolis for prom’…..figured no time like now to recap said senior prom. After all one can only write so many PhD program papers.

And considering said prom night with said Prom Date almost didn’t happen in the first place, quite frankly I was lucky just to be able to have said prom to write about to begin with. So time to cut through the s–t and talk about the evening where I realized that even though I had made a lot of progress during 18 years of living in a city I detested at the time-the much referenced Sonland City of Noblesville, Indiana, home of the Sonland aka Noblesville High School – there was still a hell of a lot of work for me to do and places to see (and go to college at) before I finally found some true satisfaction and happiness in my life.

The turning point of doing so came that second weekend of May 1991 as my senior year at said Sonland High was drawing to a close and several weeks of ups and downs came to fruition with me ending up in some fancy downtown Indianapolis ballroom being told point blank that for all the personal growth I had previously recapped on this very blog-including dropping 60 pounds in two years and overcoming bullying and depression to occasionally hang out with good looking women and Homecoming Queens-nonetheless the trip wasn’t coming to an end for me….in fact thanks to said Prom Date it was about ready to being in earnest.

Never really got to truly thank said Prom Date for what she did, so consider this recap a way of doing so even if it’s a few years and five U.S. Presidents after the fact.

And now, #!%!$ finally, said recap:

As mentioned before in previous posts I was in true GTFO mode that senior year. While I had enjoyed a pretty good summer before my senior year, I found that I wasn’t having as good a time as I felt I should be having during the actual senior year itself, especially when dealing with the opposite sex. Bottom line was any confidence I gained from the previous year or so had gone down the proverbial sh-tter because my overall dating record for senior year was the equal of Ryan Grigson’s free agency signings when he was Indianapolis Colts general manager…..and since Grigson now works for the not ready for prime time Cleveland Browns, for a favorite reference the late Ray Charles can see how bad said record in fact was.

Among the lowlights before dealing with said Prom Date were:

-getting stood up for my own Homecoming Dance by one Aimee Allison which of course led to the comedy of going to 1st hour English Literature class that Monday and having Todd Burkhalter and the late Jared Blassius make sure to ask how said Homecoming went (the answer: I saved money and in a huge surprise never talked to Allison again, while in turn I apparently handled the trash talk well enough to write a paper for Burkhalter’s senior comp class during the midst of said 1st hour class because, well, it helped keep me awake).

-having a date set up with a girl in one of my second semester classes…only for her wanting me to meet at her workplace in order for her to publicly break said date. Since the workplace was none other than the Noblesville Burger King and this all took place while Barb Leeman from my yearbook class observed first hand while she waited to place her order, one can only imagine that I enjoyed being part of said experience.  On the contrary, thanks to said incident quite frankly both options of the Peace Corps and the priesthood were looking better by the millisecond.

-and of course one time where I had a date ACTUALLY take place…..I roll out to the horse farm on State Road 19 between Noblesville and Cicero to pick up sophomore Jenny Padgett (who for irony’s sake was in the same Spanish class as the soon to be much mentioned Prom Date) for a Sunday movie matinee at Glendale featuring none other than future Family Guy star James Woods in the supposed comedy The Hard Way.  Hard to forget a time where you like someone and when you’re driving them to said movie you get the honor of hearing the first words out of her mouth be “YOU KNOW WE’RE JUST GOING AS FRIENDS, RIGHT?” 

My response: “I do now.

Fortunately, again it was a matinee with dinner at the Allisonville Road Subway located in Fishers on the way home.  So if you’re told that you’re only going as friends, best that your wallet doesn’t take too much of a hit.

…and thus my GTFO countdown was in full effect as there were no thoughts of future fraternity formals and sorority women but only thoughts of ’45 days to GTFO of Noblesville….44 days to….’ and so forth. College couldn’t be any worse than this. Nor could the Congo for that #!$% manner.

So of course in the midst of all this, none other than our previously mentioned pal Number 10-himself beginning his journey to manhood via a romance with the also previously referenced Tara Lynn Walczak (TLW for future references) set up in part by, yes, yours truly-one day in the midst of his insults and third-grade level humor announced that he was taking said TLW to prom (seniors could go with sophomores and vice versa as the Sonland’s junior class was traditionally the sponsoring group that had to organize the event in full)…and he decided in part that I needed to go as well. (As mentioned earlier, this was more than likely so someone could be there to make sure dude could get to the actual prom location since dude would have had trouble finding his own driveway without map and compass…as shown when he got lost going to Kings Island later on that prom weekend. In other words dude wasn’t hitting the Ivy League scholarship circuit.) Which meant that apparently the family of Number 10-our also previously mentioned pals Cliff and Mrs. Cliff-were in approval of me being guide dog/sidekick/Gilligan and figured that I needed to be involved even though as shown by the previous three bullet points I was not actually highlighting the date on said calendar (May 11, 1991 to be exact, showing that of course things changed)….and hence while it would be nice to go as a way to celebrate dropping weight/being a senior/winning the Gulf War and all that, I wasn’t exactly a fan of getting stood up for school functions. So of course you had this (paraphrasing) conversation take place:

“I’m taking Tara to prom.”

“Good for you, Number 10, good for you.”

“You’re going too.”

“Alright (smirk as I remember Aimee Allison and figure LIKE F— I AM)”

“..and we’re NOT taking your car (the before mentioned 1977 Buick Electra).”

“…no s—t, Sherlock.”

With this legendary handling of vocabulary now immortalized forever, yours truly humored the gent whom I also nicknamed The Diabolical C Squared by making a list of potential dates for said occasion because of the I’M NOT RIDING WITH HER or I WON’T BE SEEN WITH HER or TARA NO LIKE HER criteria that were apparently part of this double date.

Yes, a list. Not for groceries or (for future college days) fraternity beverage purchases, but for said Prom Date that could be of approval for said Number 10, Number 10’s family, Number 10’s main squeeze and for all the f— I know Number 10’s baseball card collection.

If one figured it would lead to some comic phone calls and debates on who best fit the Number 10 criteria, one would be correct. And if one says out loud “Dude, you should have just told him to STFO and do your own #!$^! thing, Buick or no Buick’ then one would be damn right as well.

But at the time, comedy prevailed. Number 10’s main man Eddie Murphy and his talk show approving sidekick Arsenio Hall had nothing on those phone conversations, save for the hit movie thing and all. Said calls pretty much went like this:

“I get along with _________, Probably will ask her.’

‘NO YOU WON’T. SHE’S UGLY! SHE’S NOT RIDING IN MY CAR!’

(shakes head at five foot eight dude with big teeth and bowl hair cut, continues…)

“Well, I hang out with ________, in this class, she knows…’

‘NO YOU’RE NOT TAKING HER! SHE’S DISGUSTING!’

(sees comedy routine happening, serves up next line..)

‘Alright then, what about __________?

‘YOU’RE NOT TAKING HER! YOU’RE NOT TAKING HER! YOU’RE NOT TAKING ANY OF THEM! (wash, rinse, repeat)

(sees perfect setup for classic Fitzthoughtsblog approved line)

‘….then WHO IN THE F— AM I TAKING THEN?’

(imagines Number 10 having hamster spinning on wheel inside head while thinking)

‘.…I’ll think of something……see you tomorrow.’

And so….that tomorrow ( a mid-week spring Wednesday) said Number 10 told me after Spanish class he was calling me that night. Of course he was…as he usually called more often than not. But this time the conversation proved to be even more classic than before. After the FITZ/NUMBER 10/FITZ/NUMBER 10/FITZ/NUMBER 10 routine that began every conversation, our TLW approved individual finally gave some informative-yet surprising as in WTF-news.

‘I know someone who will go with you.”

(Remembers past list of women who not meet Number 10 seal of approval)

“You’re f—king sh-tting me right?’

“No dude-I know someone who wants to go to prom with you (paraphrasing dude)’

“And who the f— would that be?”

‘SARAH FOX.”

 

Now THIS was a surprise, as I indicated by my response of “You’re f—king kidding with me, right?’

This is where Number 10 actually got semi-serious for once in his life and in turn after realizing that this is actually a Hot Sonland Chick (TM) who was in our very Spanish class and quite frankly IMO very beautiful as well as ten times better looking and nicer than the others I had mentioned who had stood me up for Homecoming or advocated for frequenting Burger Kings and Subways…..this did get my attention. And after realizing that I now potentially could go to an actual prom with said beautiful girl, I also realized that this was still going off the word of a dude who at times seemed to be the type to prefer to sit on his TV set in order to watch his couch….and thus I wasn’t keeping my hopes up.  So I simply said (paraphrasing) ‘Tell you what I’ll do then…..tomorrow at the end of class I’ll ask her if I can call her to talk.’

Since said Fox SAT RIGHT BEHIND ME AND BESIDE NUMBER 10 in said Spanish class, that wasn’t going to be too hard to do. And I figured ‘why the f— not?’ because at the time I previously had as many phone conversations with her as I did Grammy Award trophies. Plus again I wasn’t expecting much to happen as shown by what was previously written. I figured ‘this will humor Number 10…and that DC trip is coming up so we get this out of the way and move on with Plan GTFO.’

So the next day-a Thursday IIRC-towards the end of 5th hour Spanish, Number 10 gives the watchful eye as the following takes place:

ME-(Turning around): “Will you be home later tonight?”

FOX-(Awake and direct): “Yes.”

ME-“Is it alright if I call you later?”

FOX-(Still awake and apparently not repulsed)- “Yes.”

ME (with Number 10 rocking the head nod with chin on fist)- “I’ll call you at 8 then.”

For your background on said Fox……

…..While I knew who she was (a good looking sophomore Hot Sonland Chick(TM) who ran cross country and track) I figured that with the exception of MAYBE seeing me as senior dude who was friends with Number 10 in Spanish class or dude who kept stats at basketball games with Young Adams that said Fox really had no idea who in the blue hell I was at all. A large part of that IMO was that during the majority of her two years at said Sonland I would only see her walking down the halls with her on-again, off-again boyfriend in one Sonland football and track star Jeremy Ross. (At this time they were off again; otherwise that picture that’s been the blog logo would never have taken place….though in fairness I’m lucky that picture gets taken to begin with.) I knew Ross going back to our days in seventh grade honors social studies and junior high football and always got along with dude; in fact dude was in my English classes junior year and usually he never brought up said Fox at all. The result was never having too many in-depth conversations with her and only noticing things like her colorful Eight Ball leather jacket that she usually sported which was something out of the wardrobe truck of the Young Adams approved (yes) Fox Network TV show In Living Color.

So while I had been fortunate enough to become acquainted with the likes of her popular cheerleader classmates Keri Caswell (if you figured she’d get mentioned after 2,000 words of writing, you know me all too well) and Jenny Story, on the contrary quite frankly I had no idea if Fox was too concerned about my existence…..much less concerned about willingly being seen in public with me. Meaning here is a pretty girl who is out of my league that I’m admittedly unsure about because I didn’t think she would give two s—ts about me. And even though was two grades younger than me at the time, yours truly was still nervous and not sure what to expect when I made the call that Thursday night.

Turned out to be memorable with an admittedly unexpected ending.

I called Sarah and was able to make small talk for a half hour or so on topics ranging from her friends (Danielle King) to mutual acquaintances present (Number 10) to mutual acquaintances past (Ross; if she didn’t know that I knew him well before, she did afterwards as I recapped early touchdowns on his junior high football days and growth spurt that led to a successful Sonland athletic career. ) For a compliment past, present and future Sarah’s voice reminded yours truly of perennial Fitzthoughtsblog favorite and 90210 starlet Jennie Garth; that helped make the conversation enjoyable but also still made me nervous. And after said half hour I figured  it was time to get rejected based on all the past s–t from previously….so I manned up to hear the word ‘no’ or another version of the ‘go f— yourself’ that one Catherine Purdy had previously done when calling her for Number 10 (as per previous posts).

That led me to saying something to the tune of ‘well, you probably know why I called, so I’ll ask; prom’s coming up soon….would you go to prom with me?’

Her reply: “I’d love to.”

After the initial shock set in and I realized SHE SAID YES I of course used the word ‘awesome’ a few dozen times and was elated to say the least. I didn’t expect her to say those words then and am STILL surprised to this day. Wasn’t every day that a former five foot four, 200 pound plus object of ridicule could end up with not only a prom date but in my opinion THE Prom Date. Still gives me goosebumps.

When I was done talking to Sarah I sat there with a huge a— grin on my face for a few minutes before keeping the promise and calling Number 10. Since Number 10 approved of said Fox (who was also in his Earth Science class and apparently got to hear Number 10’s outlook on life for two straight hours per school day) that meant that I was apparently double dating with him and for one moment his insults towards me took a backseat to WE’RE EATING AT FRENCH QUARTER and WE’RE GETTING MICHAEL JORDAN TUXES BECAUSE BARRY JACKSON’S GETTING ONE in the conversation. (You also know now how dining and wardrobe were selected for the evening.  Dude was rocking the event planner gimmick for the event without question.) Young Adams and the few other individuals who did ask me if I was going to prom were IIRC impressed as well since 1) Fox was gorgeous and 2) see number 1 since she supposedly was going with ME to this.

And that’s where the supposedly comes in….combined with stuff of months previous (Allison standing me up for Homecoming) and present (the much mentioned previous amount of cheap shots taken by Number 10 at me, my family, Young Adams and all facets of my life that did not have anything to do with this prom planning). Add to that Walczak’s mixed communication with said Number 10 (IIRC she wanted me to go with someone else on the Friday after the Thursday night I had asked Sarah on the phone) and I had a situation where I personally resolved myself to this mindset based on the previous year’s amount of Sonland related drama and b—s—: don’t be surprised if something comes up i.e. Homecoming and this doesn’t happen. In other words I ended up with two main goals: have a memorable photo taken at your house before prom while not having an incident with an increasingly arrogant, condescending and all around c–k of a so-called friend such as Number 10.

Yeah, after typing that last sentence a double date situation with dude doesn’t look too enticing when said dude openly makes fun of you, your friends, your home and your family.  And his man Cliff was sure as f— no James Eckhouse giving guidance to the youth of West Beverly.  Especially as he talked down to me and made me wonder if this prom would actually happen since I didn’t fully trust too much at the time. Call me cynical but based on what I have wrote already (again see Allison, Aimee) at the time I also considered myself a realist. As a result I did not make it the norm to talk too much about said prom (though in fairness when your class votes you Most Likely To Stay Single it means they figured I wouldn’t be talking about prom much to begin with). So here’s a quick rundown of what happened before said prom in dealing with said Prom Date in waiting:

-I wrote Sarah a couple of notes during school hours to say I was excited to go to prom with a non-inflatable female. She actually wrote back to acknowledge said acknowledgements. As exciting as it sounds.

-I talked to Sarah a handful of times on the phone. One of early said times was when I found that there would be no part of the traditional ‘go to Kings Island day after prom with Prom Date’ festivities with her because she had already made plans with her gal pal and Lady Miller golfer Michelle Baker (who was not going to said prom) for the trip to the suburban Cincinnati home of a fake Eiffel Tower, roller coasters and people donning life size costumes of Hanna Barbara characters. (You’ll find out eventually how that day went with a comedy story to go along with it.) I didn’t press the issue because quite frankly I didn’t think the prom was a guarantee to begin with (remember-I had no f—-ing confidence in this point) and simply said “I’m just happy to go to prom in the first place” even though I wasn’t so sure it was going to happen. Again, no confidence.

-I also remember getting to ask her what her dress would look like so I could figure out what to do on buying her flowers and/or a corsage for prom. Of course I smoothly brought it up by saying “I have no idea what the f— to do since I’ve never done this before” and got her to describe her dress (this came after the obligatory I GOT MY DRESS conversation that increased my odds of thinking I was going to this from 10-1 to 5-2-again, no confidence.) She described it pretty much as the photo shows. The mere thought of a strapless dress was enough to keep me in happy spirits while I figured I was getting red and white flowers of some sort…which I would in the form of the wrist crosage shown on above photo.

-before spring break and prom took place, I went to our nation’s capital for a week with said Sonland school DC Club and sponsor extraordinaire Big Jim Sparks. To show how much Number 10 paid attention when not insulting me or talking about the greatness of the Walczak family, it took him a few days to figure out I was not in said Spanish class to insult, so he of course called the house to hear “he’s in Washington D.C., Number 10″ and then the hamster wheel in his head eventually figured out that’s why I had been going to DC Club meetings and doing fundraisers (ours included of all things a plant sale-hey, it worked) for the last six months. No insults for a week was nice. The comedy of seeing dudes attempt to get high in their hotel rooms by smelling Scotch Guard was nicer. Always approved of good comedy as good friend and fellow graduate Brian Allen both talked about said situation with me realizing I needed to watch my back on said situation due to Number 10’s b—s—t.

Sarah never got a postcard or anything else from that DC trip  in part because this I never thought about sending her something until typing this very sentence. I’ll assume she figured out I was gone for the week since she sat in front of me….and if not I’ll assume she had the same optometrist as our main men Mr. Charles and Stevie Wonder. In any event, I was out of the Sonland for a week so that was enough for me.

-Spring Break happened in the first week of April. I made my first of many college choices (after all, I’m currently at college number six) by deciding to go to Transylvania University after an overnight recruiting visit where I met my future roommate and frat brother Tall Cool One Emberton (he also did his overnight visit at the same time) and the then current fraternity sweetheart and then junior member of Chi Omega sorority Laura Jo Simms. (I didn’t realize this at the time, but that was my first example of getting rushed for a fraternity as I went to an econ class, did not fall asleep (I had plenty of practice that semester in dealing with 1st hour Sonland Econ under former junior high football coach Mr. Brian Powers) , and next thing I know this woman over the age of 21 is talking to me and asking a bunch of questions and I’m going HOLY S— THIS WOMAN IS TALKING TO ME! and thinking ‘well, this day’s better than 12 years in Noblesville already so F— EVERYWHERE ELSE I’M GOING HERE.) Also helped that with scholarship money that it would be cheaper there than the likes of Indiana-Bloomington and Ball State...and as one knows from these blog posts I’m not afraid to be cheap so good for me there. Plus with what I reference later on it guaranteed that when I had a chance to back out of going to TU in May, I said THE F— NO BECAUSE TIME TO GTFO.

(So if one wonders why me of all people decided I wanted to rush a fraternity in college after having the social life of a small inland shrew for most of my existence, there it is. Beat standing in line for an hour to get a beer in Muncie.)

-As mentioned previously I then returned to have me and Young Adams get insulted by Number 10 on my birthday weekend. As mentioned earlier I let said Number 10 know what I thought of said insults which led to TLW calling me to make nice. And because I trusted Number 10 as far as I could dead lift a dead rhinoceros, I figured that I might as well see if this Prom Date was actually going to happen since I wasn’t actually talking to too many people…..

-…so that week I made the decision that if my luck was going to continue to be s—-y that I would know that I didn’t want it to be due to me not communicating or showing up at Prom Date House that Saturday with no Prom Date in the vicinity. Hence that week I simply asked Sarah if it was alright if I could stop by her house to meet the parents and give them the itinerary of WTF was going to happen that weekend. As goofy as it may sound between the Number 10 related drama and my not wanting to get stood up I said f— it and figured why the f— not? Hence more unintentional comedy as on the afternoon of Sunday April 21 yours truly sailed the 1977 Buick over to her house and was greeted by her father to then shoot the proverbial s–t and say “uh, I’m coming over in a couple weeks to take your daughter to prom so I wanted to introduce myself and (paraphrasing) let you know what the ##!#$ is going on.’

Dude seemed to approve, or at least dude seemed to humor me in acting like he approved. Plus dude probably saw a 6 foot 140 pound gent with Coke bottle glasses driving a 1977 Buick and thought to himself ‘well, I don’t have much to worry about.’

In the midst of said itinerary (where my highlight was-and this cracks me up typing this-cutting the promo of “Your daughter is meeting Baker at 6 am for Kings Island..I’m also picking up three other people at 6 am for Kings Island…so your daughter’s going to be back at a reasonable time.” Hence Mr. Fox probably figured yours truly wasn’t going to be lining up any kegs for the evening….or for that matter any Scotch Guard. He seemed to approve. I approved of his approval to approve. And in the midst of this conversation out walked Sarah wearing just a t-shirt and sweatpants…….where for the first time I realized she was actually a lot shorter than I thought (maybe 5’4” or 5’5” without heels). Probably came from underestimating her height after seeing her walk down the halls every day with the then 6’5” Ross. Or more than likely it came from the fact that I was a complete dumbass.

With said Prom Night schedule dictated to said Mr. Fox, history then took place because not only had Sarah not ran away or kicked me in the genitals or thrown her track cleats at me but for the first and only time I got asked to go to her room (which was on the first floor of said house…in fact IIRC the window view looked right onto the street) with her asking “Do you want to see my dress?” 

Damn straight I did.

So I got to see what she had bought earlier in the month…..and when I got to see The Prom Dress -a strapless outfit including a white top with black polka dots, red rose on the area of the you know what and black skirt- of course I stuttered a few times and said something to the tune of ‘well I now know what to do on the flowers’ while realizing that I may actually not get stood up for this deal at all. After all SHE BOUGHT A DRESS (with black opera gloves to go with it). With most of the fashion trends picking either long gowns or those pastel colored deals that were straight out of what one would see at somewhere like the Merry Go Round store in Castleton Square Mall (home of the $35 IOU brand sweatshirts that yours truly used to pimp) safe to say I approved of the apparel. And I also figured ‘well, if I show up on May 11 and she’s not there, there should be one hell of a story as to why she’s not.’

Oh, and she was shorter than I thought.

(That led to this memorable quote from Sarah -paraphrasing-from the last phone conversation I had with her before prom: “No one’s ever wanted to meet my parents before.” That’s because no one you ever dated had a senior year dating history that rivaled the Republican party’s presidential election record against Franklin Delano Roosevelt in the 1930’s and 40’s. Of course I didn’t say that in response…I just mumbled ‘well, I wanted to meet them’ or some other dumbf—k answer because again NO CONFIDENCE.)

-and of course in the midst of this as documented earlier I would have an altercation with Number 10 where I punched him in the face in front of TLW and then meet up with his parentals  Cliff and Mrs. Cliff (with Number 10 hiding in the background) where I told them that Number 10 could in so many words go f— himself for being a c-ck to my friends, family and most importantly myself. (Which led to Cliff asking ‘What about prom?’ and me of course going ‘What about it?’ because it was just too good a response to pass up.) In turn three things came out of said Cliff Summit: the gentleman’s agreement where I promised to go on said double date with Number 10 as driver extraordinaire to dinner and downtown while I would not f— anyone’s prom up; me never respecting Number 10 again and knowing I needed to watch my back that next weekend; and lastly the realization that believe it or not this thing may actually happen next weekend after all. Add to that a little bit of self-respect for standing up to Number 10’s b—s— in front of him and his entire family (I included TLW as family as IIRC she was looked at by the Cliffs as the modern day Michelle Obama of the time) and yours truly felt ‘well, this prom thing may actually take place after all.’ Which led me to give Young Adams the comical recap of dealing with The Family Cliff while seeing Number 10 stand behind his mother and act victim…..and like I said before, I WAS DOUBLE DATING WITH THIS DUDE TO PROM. 

Bad Lifetime movie in the making. All I needed was Lori Loughlin playing TLW (as in Full House version Loughlin of course-she was a personal favorite then and now as you’re not shocked I’d mention it if you’ve ever read anything else on this blog) and I was set. At the very worst I may complete my senior year by getting the finger on not one but two school dances; at the very least I would be dealing with watching what Number 10 might try to pull.

But as I gave the recap to Young Adams and then cruised over with him later that evening to visit That Son Shields, the realization was beginning to sink in that in one week I might be going to prom with a Hot Sonland Chick (TM).  Add to that I had found that Shields had gotten the go-ahead and the cash for the following weekend so I would be driving the then sophomore Shields and his then girlfriend fellow sophomore Meghan Wheat to Kings Island the next day (again stay tuned next post who goes with us) and I figured that I might actually be ending my senior year on a positive note after all-Number 10 related drama or not.

-The result was a lot of anxiousness that week of prom because the closer Saturday May 11 got the more I realized that again this might happen. Generally what I remember that week is a few people asked if I would be going, me saying yes, and after they were shocked that a man who was more Don Knotts than Don Johnson was going to this deal they then asked who I was going with and then usually voiced their approval.  Some even noted they would try to find me at said deal and I said ‘you’ll see me sitting at a table since my dancing s—s.’ (I’d be prophetic on that). This also led to none other than Young Ross seeing me in the hall between classes and asking if I was in fact going to this shindig with his on again and now firmly off again ex-girlfriend. I in turn told him that was affirmative and asked back if there were any issues on said ex-girlfriend going with said man who drove a 1977 Buick big enough to float without issues on Morse Reservoir. Since he did not throw me out off the ledge or down a flight of stairs, the assumption was there was no issues. Good to know.

Oh, and one day TLW came up to me after 4th hour sociology and asked me (with a look that rivaled the one that her mother once gave me when I went to the bank one summer Saturday in undergrad to open up an account and said mother did not recognize me without said Coke bottle spectacles) if I was excited for prom. Because said facial expression of TLW always cracked me up and because I thought of hopefully happening Prom Date wearing said Prom Dress, I said I was.  Because it was better than the one time she stomped up to me after class and threw a handwritten note at me telling me to go f— myself in the midst of said drama of standing up to Number 10’s insults, it reminded me just now that if I had in fact did go f— myself as many people have asked me to over the years I would actually be rivaling Hugh Hefner instead of reading his periodicals. (Hey, I read them for the articles…..occasionally.)

As for Sarah, she was not officially The Prom Date yet; with Number 10 only making small talk to me that last week (he never insulted me again-to my face, that is) Spanish class was generally stress free compared to the past because apparently most of the class did not figure I was supposed to go to prom or better yet that Sarah was supposed to go with me. With Sarah generally making as much noise as a brick wall in said class, my main memory is hearing the class bell ring at 1:51 pm that Friday and then turning around to tell her “See you tomorrow” before rolling out of said Spanish class to final hour of yearbook for my daily updates from Nancy Boosel about how her multiple boyfriends were doing. (Give her credit for entertainment value as she was also happy I was going to said prom and noted she would see me there….with which boyfriend though IIRC was still up for debate. Impressive nonetheless.) By then I figured if something was going to happen such as a mysterious injury at her morning track meet that required her to get treatment from witch doctors in Zaire- and thus have me actually living that Simpsons episode shown earlier on -yes-Fox TV earlier that very year where Homer goes to the prom by himself-then that was how things were going to be.

Not surprisingly that Friday night before prom was me and Young Adams sailing to Glendale to pick up the tux and then doing the usual cruise/mall/Pizza Hut combo. (The tux was as mentioned earlier one from the Michael Jordan formal collection…way I see it I could have done worse and since it wasn’t powder blue it was a win win for all.) Young Adams was more enthusiastic about my upcoming evening than I was, but in fairness Young Adams had grown up with me (as also mentioned before he grew up three houses down from me..and coincidentally was also a North Elementary alum with a then brunette version of younger Sarah) and seen me drop the 60 pounds while saying ‘no mas’ to the arrogance of Number 10 that had come from Number 10’s role as 12th man on the Sonland hoops squad and 1st man apparently younger than TLW to date said TLW.  For all I knew Sarah was out that night partying with the Wayans Brothers; for all I hoped was that she would be ready to go and rock the Prom Dress that following night. No Hollywood antics for me as me and Young Adams closed down Pizza Hut and then were out till 2 am sailing in said Buick as my now being 18 meant that Adams had a “cousin” that guaranteed him being able to ditch curfew-and later on talk himself out of a traffic ticket when he was pulled over that summer driving said Buick-more often than not. (And I just chuckled at the thought of calling dude Cousin Adams.)

Fitting that was how what would become The Prom Night would begin.

The afternoon of Saturday, May 11 was like most in the Sonland City of the early 1990’s- a pretty quiet one.  Not much excitement that Saturday since I already had the tux and wasn’t going to drop $100 on new kicks at the Castleton Finish Line store after having dropped $68 or so for a tux rental (which was a nice $50 or more then what I would be paying later on at college with the Transylvania student discount set up at the formal place the fraternity always went to on Richmond Road by Applebee’s in Lexington. Yes, I was pretty f—-ing cheap then, but then in response….college). Basically the day was sleeping in till noon or so (a prerequisite for the next four years at TU after regularly staying up till 4 or 5 in the morning most Friday nights), washing the docked up ’77 Buick for whatever f—ing reason since admittedly it was a ’77 Buick, watching a Celtics-Pistons NBA playoff game on TV, and going to the now defunct Repp Flowers  to pick up the order for The Prom Corsage (at halftime of said Celtics-Pistons). The corsage is actually the biggest memory I have of what happened before prom because I was wearing my $15 blue Nike t-shirt with my black Nike Force basketball shorts to said Repp (call me detail) and I sailed the Buick out there to find that I was the only dude in the place…and actually the only customer.  Meaning there wasn’t much issue in saying “I’m the dude who called in the white corsage with small red roses on it” and them figuring it out. I still wasn’t sure if there was actually going to be a real live Prom Date to wear said corsage, but I figured I would find out soon enough.

Sarah had a track meet, our pal Number 10 was sitting the pine as the lone sophomore Sonlander on the school baseball team, and as I would also soon find out TLW had a special guest assistant to get her ready for said shindig. That’s all I knew at the time as I pimped the black Stacy Adams dress shoes to go along with black bow tie and a red rose in the lapel that came along with said corsage gimmick. Because Number 10 did not want to have anything to do with my family (calling it as it is, ladies and gents) nor go near my household (again, great dude) the plan was for me to go pick up Sarah, me to then drive Sarah over to Number 10’s after I got said photos taken with Sarah (more on that momentarily), then go out to get TLW before dinner at Fifth Quarter and doing whatever one did at said prom at the downtown Indiana Ballroom. Having decided to not try contacts out full time, I carted out the trade mark Coke bottle glasses except for photos when taking them off (also more on that next post). And the two goals of “have date show up” and “have no altercation where you lose your temper with Number 10 for past and present b—s—t” remained set in stone.  Not exactly what 99 plus percent of theoretically red blooded American teenage males have as their goals for said prom, but I was being realistic. Plus as far as I was concerned this weekend of prom and Kings Island was as much of a reward for dropping those much mentioned 60 pounds as I was going to get so I might as well go over to Prom Date House and see if said Prom Date was actually there while dressed like a waiter at the Ritz Charles.

The 77 Buick was then sailed down Tenth Street/Allisonville Road to said Prom Date residence. (No exact time on departure-I just remember it was daylight. That way I’d have a better view if the door was slammed in my face.) There weren’t any theatrics in rolling to the front door because walking out of a ’77 Buick with whitewall tires while sporting a tux covered that front. As her parents answered the door I basically only hoped that there would be a Prom Date to go with me to said prom and for me to not get kicked in the b—s (not necessarily in that order.) Lucked out because after just a few minutes of waiting in the living room (which led me to wonder if that was how she’d escape through the window) a door opens and low and behold a VERY HOT CHICK in a strapless dress, black heels, black opera gloves and primped up blonde hair walks out. As one would expect, I basically did the ‘Beavis and Butthead’ eyes and (as mentioned before in the Instagram account) did my best Jon Cryer imitation from that “Two and A Half Men” episode where Brooke Shields guest stars as the new neighbor, gets introduced by our main man Charlie Sheen to Cryer’s Alan Harper and Alan then proceeds to babble the word WELCOME for three straight minutes. Only mine was a version of YOU LOOK GREAT while trying not to drool or take a No. 1 (not to be confused with No. 2, er, Number 10) in the rented tux.

If I got to chose two highlights for the evening, that was one of them because, well, Sarah looked great. Better yet SHE WAS GORGEOUS.

Also if one makes the comment ‘You have no f—ing idea what she said to you when you picked her up, do you?” then one would be right.

I did remember to put the corsage on and didn’t hurt myself in the process, and since it had one of those wrap bands on their that wasn’t too much of a disaster because she wore it for any/all pictures that were she willingly took with me (emphasis of course on willingly because hey, I’m realistic: at the time her going to this with me was a WTF moment in full effect).

I also now realized that for now at least I actually was now officially with The Prom Date.  Good for me. Actually as referenced enough there at first and the boat, er car, great for me.

After said showing of flower power (including me approving of what I called the Triple R for the red rose on her rack via said Prom Dress) and feeling like I did in fact have the modern day Sonland version of Jennie Garth as my date for the next few hours, or minutes, or before she decided to pull a Jenny Padgett. So we sailed off to my house for the other highlight of the evening: getting pictures taken at my house (courtesy of my late mother-RIP) including the one that has been the blog logo for the past year as well as one of my all time favorite photos. (The all time favorite one is on the @fitzthoughts page with #thankyousarahjane as one of the hashtags because of course it is.) I wrote before on the Instagram account that going with a beautiful girl to prom made all the work in dropping weight and all the hell and heartaches I went through dealing with being overweight and and bullied worth it.

That’s actually a good place to stop.

(Hence this becomes Part 1 and Part 2 is coming up next post. Shows my time management skills need improving since I wrote this over three evenings between said paper.)

Safe to say if I wrote 7,500 words for this post that I’ll have some good comedy to write about for the next one as I need to detail what turned out to be some good advice from a very good-or hint hint GREAT-looking source.

Thanks again to any and all in cyberspace reading this as I plan on following up with Part 2 sooner than later (as in not waiting a year to do it). But while I’m at it no time like the present to make sure to do this because again being out with a beautiful girl on prom night made going from 5’4 200 plus to 6’0 140 all worth it…..

Thank you Sarah Jane.

Jeff

@fitzthoughts

Fitzthoughtsblog at fitzthoughtsblog.wordpress.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

7-27-17: Thursday Night Fitzthoughts

Eyes on the road, Mr. Estevez. On second thought…it’s Demi Moore, so carry on. 

Thursday night in late July here in rainy central Indiana, homework complete (for now) but paper still in progress and due Saturday in the midst of a Demi Moore kick . Five quick Fitzthoughts before seeing if I can finally motivate and finish what I started babbling about a year or so ago so I can finally babble about the first time I actually made it through undergrad in one piece:

-got a letter the other day saying someone was interested in buying my property in McCordsville.  Didn’t know I had property there, so you learn something new every day.

-as mentioned previously this week was the one year anniversary at the current workplace.  To celebrate I have three Diet Mountain Dews to drink tomorrow before they clear the fridge out and I lose said Diet Mountain Dews. One can only drink so many Big K products, so I am splurging more on soft drinks instead of waiting for the 59 cent Big K two liter sales. Not great progress compared to a year ago, but progress nonetheless.

-for those of you out there who also had Cam Newton seemingly throw your fantasy football team into the proverbial s—thole during the 2016 season, yours truly feels your pain as yours truly debates on whether said Newton will be brought back as the “keeper” for this year’s big money fantasy football league (ten dudes at $50 a pop play for a $300 first prize each fall…and as mentioned before yours truly has never won the league as I perform in the playoffs about as well as Duke did against UNLV in the 1990 NCAA mens’ hoops title game. Should I keep Newton as my quarterback and Newton rewards me by having another scrub like campaign on the stat sheet,  he won’t be the only one demoralized and I’ll have no shot at, yes, pulling a 1991 Duke with this year’s season. So I’ve got a big decision to make in the next few weeks…plus I’ve got to drag out 50 bucks for said fantasy football draft as well. Maybe I will need to hit those Kroger sales for the Big K after all.

(On the other hand, Newton was the sole reason I made the league title game in 2015 and won $100 with second place, so as of now I’ll say I broke even on the last couple of seasons. And remind me not to draft a defensive unit in the seventh round…never works.)

-while taking the chance to note that tonight’s dinner came to $1.60 at KFC as I had a soft drink and a free “Go Cup” courtesy of an online survey, I will also note I am getting a lot of Kyrie Irving lectures these days as I am getting lectures from both sides of the proverbial mouth of the Indiana Pacers. One moment I hear that Kevin Pritchard rejected a trade to get someone not named Victor Oladipo for Paul George, yet the next moment I get those in favor of Donnie Walsh infested NBA front offices saying that the great Pritchard tried to trigger a PG for Kyrie trade.  All I know is that I’m not sold on Pritchard the executive, TJ Leaf the pro basketball player or lastly Pritchard’s infatuation with said Oladipo.  Lots of hyperlinks to show lots of question marks from yours truly about how big a train wreck this Pacers franchise could end up being in the aftermath of losing a perennial All-Star for the likes of a man named Sabonis. Yeah, count me in as not too thrilled with the team’s direction. But then again that’s been the way things have been since the Reagan administration, so no new news there.

Either way I will be on the lookout for more Irving related drama as a nation turns to ESPN’s favorite son LeBron James to see where he ends up going to at the end of next pro hoops season. As long as he’s not in the same division-better yet, the same conference-as said Pacers then no complaints from this gent.

-Lastly finishing up with two takes: first a GIF of the Day because I might as well throw out a Demi Moore GIF one from the 80’s to get it out of the system….

Image result for demi moore gif

……and lastly it’s about time for me to put up or shut up and talk about a certain date before graduation that was kind of important back in the day before heading off to college number one.  Time to finally write about it after talking about how it almost didn’t happen  in the first place and hinting about it one too many times.   (See current blog post photo for a hint.)

Best wishes to all and thanks to anyone out in Internet land who read this on the Fitzthoughtsblog as we near the end of summer 2017.

Jeff

@fitzthoughts

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7-23-17: Summer Sunday Fitzthoughts

 

To paraphrase former Beta Mu frat brother Michael “P.S.” Williams, it doesn’t get any better than a 1980’s John Cusack movie. Hence summer post with photo from 1986’s One Crazy Summer and good ol’ Demi Moore.

Sunday evening in central Indiana and another paper due in six days. Basically the summer months have usually gone like this: get up at 6 am….work 10 to 10 1/2 hour day on weekday and 4 to 5 hours Saturday morning…return for dinner and walk dog….do homework….and then debate whether I should hit the hay or write on the blog. Sleep usually wins 99 out of 100 times. So might as well throw out some random babble on a rare blog post as I obviously remember just how much junior high me enjoyed looking at Demi Moore then as adult me does today:

-The local NFL team has their 2017 preseason training camp coming up so there’s at least one thing to sort of look forward to. Not too excited about having this cliche favoring gent returning as Colts head coach, nor am I sold on having this charismatic man who can’t beat the Houston Texans back as his offensive coordinator of choice. My advice to these two individuals: win the season opener September 10 against the Los Angeles Rams. Winning that one game will give ying yangs like myself confidence towards seeing an actual Colts playoff appearance this year. Losing that game? That means another slow start for Ground Chuck and the Sons of Irsay will probably be on the horizon.

So yeah, that opening game’s kind of important. On the plus side it will be nice to see NFL games again, Pagano or no Pagano. Not like I’m not going to watch based on my shoddy track record, so there’s that.

-I missed watching a rare Cincinnati Reds win today as they beat the Miami Marlins. Now they’re only 16 games under .500 as opposed to 17. Meanwhile the team spends $19 million in salary this year on Queen City media favorite Homer Bailey to “pitch” in the team’s starting rotation. Bailey’s 2017 record as of this typing? Two wins, four losses, and an ERA of 8.56. Meanwhile an individual under the handle mikemo14 called out the Reds for their horrible business sense on the Reds Zone message board. All you have to do is go to the sixth post of this thread with Reds apologist supreme Raisor to know that wouldn’t go well. Raisor has a right to his opinion; I have a right to not want to see s—-y baseball on an annual basis from my favorite major league baseball team. For now I agree to disagree with middle-aged Raisor because if he approves of his team losing roughly 58 percent of their games the last four years then that’s his choice. Not sure what dude would do if his man Bryan Price actually gets relieved from his managerial duties. Actually best I don’t speculate on that one, come to think of it.

TLDR- the Reds are on their way to another last place finish, and it’s not like I should have been surprised since I babbled about it last October. I’ll just hope for 70 wins to finish out the season and no Bryan Price come November 1. I have low expectations as a Reds fan, after all.

-Apparently this ex-Washington Wizard will be in the Indiana Pacers starting lineup this year as well as this ex-Sacramento King who was once a Pacer a few seasons ago.  Not sure if either can get the team will help the team win more than 32 games next season, but not my team nor my money to spend. Meanwhile our pals at Pacers Digest seem to approve of Victor Oladipo in what should not be too much a surprise. Again, low expectations for these dudes as I predict a record next year of 32-50 but won’t be shocked to see 30-52.

-Went to two Indianapolis Indians games this summer. The Triple A affiliate of the Pittsburgh Pirates won one and lost the another by jobbing 1-0 in giving up the only run in the top of the 9th. As that loss was on a Monday night and I had to be at work at 7 the next morning, no complaint about the game going by quick nor with the Indians doing their Dollar Menu gimmick for concessions. Nice to do something other than homework on a Monday night for once, so that’s a good thing. Not so good: the team’s 2017 ticket prices.  However a lawn seat ticket is less than attending an evening iMax movie (or at least it’s lower than the last time I went when it was $13.50). In any event I like to go to at least one game a year so mark that off the list of ways to avoid doing homework.

-You’re not surprised I stopped to get a free haircut in the midst of writing this. Can’t pass up free stuff these days.

-This week is the one year anniversary at the current gig. Recap of said events from this post: 7-25-16: The First Day in Westfield

-On the shoe front, increased walking led me to finally have to throw my 1987 Nike Air Trainer 1’s into second status as both shoes now have holes in the sole. As I am too cheap right now to go buy new shoes, I broke out a pair of old school Nike Air Max 90’s that I had worn like three times in ten years. They’re still holding up. Photo example of said shoes:

Good to use thus far. Will probably need to break out the wallet for a new pair soon….or at least do some scanning on eBay.

-One other note from said Indians games: the Saturday night one saw our section win coupons for free Grand Slam Breakfasts from Denny’s. They gave a ton of coupons-like a dozen or so. So I went with the family to a Denny’s off of the interstate in scenic Lebanon yesterday after work. Total fare for three before adding tip: NINE BUCKS. I’ll take it. While that may make my weekend a sad one if that was the highlight (save for writing this blog post), my wallet is thankful nonetheless.

Family has more coupons to use by a deadline date in mid-October. Expecting a couple more Saturday meals at said Denny’s in future weeks. One other positive: they now pull the same gimmick that Burger King and Wendy’s do in serving more than just six flavors of soda. So I got three Vanilla Cokes for my $2.39. Yeah, doesn’t take much for me to get hyped these days.

-This post was not the first time that I have referenced a John Cusack movie.  For a Cusack movie with an Indianapolis Indians connection and your “might as well throw this s–t in at 9:30 pm” tidbit of the night, the 1988 Cusack film Eight Men Out was filmed at the old home of said Indians Bush Stadium back during my youth. If one figures that film would be part of my VHS collection, one figures correctly.

-Might as well end this post with a Demi Moore GIF because, well, Demi Moore:

Related image

No, THANK YOU, Demi.

Happy summer to any and all who read this as work coming up at 7 am followed by two more papers in the next 20 days. Wish me luck.

Jeff

@fitzthoughts

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7-11-17: The One Year Anniversary Post

Happy anniversary to the blog as I celebrate the first post made last July after completing yet another school assignment. Meanwhile the Indiana Pacers apparently believe that this Tom Crean product getting waxed by a junior high schooler will replace Paul George and lead the Pacers to the NBA World title. In other words business as usual with my favorite pro hoops team and my not-so-favorite thing of writing papers.

Big thanks to any and all who may have taken some time out of their lives the last 12 months to read ramblings about actually overcoming obesity as well as bullying from MAD magazine poster boys in the first half of my high school years. The last two ended up having much better times …..like going to more concerts with beautiful women and seeing Hot Sonland Chicks in bikinis.  Could have been a hell of a lot worse.

Throwing it to a FOX Network approved media favorite for the finish…

Image result for anniversary gif

Work in seven hours. Next paper due in 24. Weekend can’t get here soon enough.

Jeff

@fitzthoughts

fitzthoughtsblog.wordpress.com

 

6-25-17: Fitzthoughts GIFs of the Day: Celebrating the Paul George Era

That won’t be the only Lakers jersey Paul George ever wears if dude gets his wish. 

As mentioned earlier yours truly joined Indiana Pacers fans across the globe (or at least from Westfield to West Baden) in getting this Woj bomb via the agent of All-Star forward Paul George saying that they were looking to leave Indiana for greener-or in this case more purple and gold oriented-pastures in 2018. Two problems: George had told people two and a half days earlier at his charity softball game in Indianapolis that he was ‘a Pacer’ while 2) that NBA draft deal was coming up later in the week…which was NOT good timing for him or said Pacers to make a deal where they could get more than a proverbial poo-poo platter in return for letting said George leave said the Hoosier State’s mediocre pro hoops team of choice. Of course the Pacers front office handled it well while fans and media alike had just a bit of overreacting which led to the only PG social media response of substance in awhile to serve as neighborhood watch on the whole deal. Meanwhile the TJ Leaf era begins as yours truly braces for more modern day mediocrity from the former employer of TJ Ford, Troy Murphy and Lavoy Allen.

Nevertheless yours truly is happy to have seen the man known as PG13 for at least a few years in a Pacers uniform, so a few quick GIFs to celebrate what was at one time perhaps the most talented player to wear the blue and gold in the franchise’s post-ABA years:

First, a nice 360 jam…..

Image result for paul george gif

……followed by a dunk of the windmill variety……

Image result for paul george gif

….and back from the glory days of back to back East finals appearances against Miami:

Image result for paul george gif

and speaking of those Heat-Pacers battles, better make sure to add this:

Image result for paul george gif

Finally, might as well throw in that dance deal with John Wall:

Image result for paul george dance gif

Best wishes to PG13 wherever he ends up with in the Association.

Jeff

fitzthoughtsblog.wordpress.com

 

6-25-17: Pacers Problems: No Bye to Bird = Bye Bye PG

 

So, I was doing homework last Sunday afternoon when I got this news:

After a two year period in which Indiana Pacers All-Star Paul George saw a two time NBA East Conference finalist team tore up around him while team president Larry Bird replaced members of said conference finalists with the likes of C.J. Miles,  Monta Ellis, Rodney Stuckey and Al Jefferson, last week the Team USA standout had his agent advise the team that he was not coming back after the 2017-18 season. The result: a fun filled week of chaos that sadly made Ellis’s five game drug suspension a moot point…kind of like the Pacers are these days on the NBA landscape. More drama to follow. That’s Bird’s replacement Kevin Pritchard’s head on the bottom and the corpse of Indianapolis media and Simon family pet Donnie Walsh in the bottom corner; Pritchard gets the honor of cleaning the mess Bird made of the team these past three seasons while Walsh gets a paycheck for sleeping through Pacers playoff losses. Photo courtesy of Hoops Habit

When you openly admit that you’re trying to trade your star player at the trade deadline like Indiana Pacers team president Larry Bird did earlier this year, then said star player probably isn’t going to be looking to stay with your team long term unless your team makes it a priority to add quality current players to the roster instead of adding former WNBA players to its already bloated and ineffective front office.  Add to that the fact that the team got swept in the first round of this year’s NBA playoffs to eventual Finals loser Cleveland (as previously documented here) and then finalize it with Bird “resigning” from his duties at the end of April for Kevin Pritchard to be the lead decision maker in Pacer Land yet still apparently having a lot of say in team matters as a “consultant”….and next thing you know said last weekend team star Paul George apparently finally said ‘enough’ and had his agent Aaron Mintz get the ball rolling to get the man known as PG13 off of the Pacers ASAP.  While it probably didn’t help the 27 year old George’s rep by telling people at his own charity softball game the previous Thursday that he was in fact ‘a Pacer’ nor help the team do whatever the blue f— they were going to do about preparing for the 2017-18 campaign, nonetheless the damage has been done: the Pacers now have a star player not thrilled with the direction of the team, and he prefers to be out of there in the next 12 months-preferably per the media to his hometown Los Angeles Lakers if he gets his way.

Needless to say, I was not thrilled. Made the earlier weekend news about Monta Ellis getting a five game drug related suspension to start next year pretty damn tame by comparison.

Hence a week of full fledged drama with my worthless self routinely checking the Pacers Digest message board for news in the midst of what is as of this writing a 241 page thread of full fledged emotion where people blame everyone from George to George’s agent to Bird to Boomer the Pacers Panther to new Laker GM/all time Bird rival Magic Johnson to former WWF World Champ The Iron Sheik for the debacle that has unfolded these past few days. Add the little event called the 2017 NBA draft taking place this Thursday that ended with George STILL on the roster instead of being traded and we now have ourselves a frustrating time of the team being on autopilot while deciding what or what they cannot do with their disgruntled star. But even worse has been the question of who to blame for all of this s–t that has had the team in the midst of the public storm: is it the alleged diva nicknamed PG-13, or is it anyone else that doesn’t share the name of four long time media favorites from Liverpool?

For brevity’s sake, I simply share this post from the astutely named Basketball Fan from said Pacers Digest as he/she/Boomer/it and I think alike:


Sad but true its why when Paul George said he’s going to leave I can’t really be that upset sure I wish he did it where we could get something good out of it but really he knew what we should’ve known all along.

We are not winning anything with Bird running things and the Simons settling for mediocrity.

The Lakers despite their down period aren’t settling now it could blow up in their face but they are going down guns blazing. The Pacers will never do that.


I concur with dude/non-dude/Etch-A-Sketch 100 percent.

Pacers owner Herb Simon usually gets the equal of a (rhymes with snow mob) from local fans and media because he “saved” the franchise from moving by buying the team from worthless Sam Nassi in 1983 and thus has gotten a free pass in asking for local tax money to subsidize the team when it stunk during the previous decade (they missed the playoffs four straight years from 2007-2010) while seeing the team fail to bring a world championship to Indianapolis despite multiple opportunities to do so. Along with his right hand man Donnie Walsh it seems like Simon probably isn’t too concerned about winning the NBA title as he looks to avoid the IRS or add even more people to an already inept front office  that includes Bird, Pritchard, Walsh and whatever the f— Quinn Buckner does to draw an extra non-announcing paycheck. The polite way to put it: if I want to win the World title, I’m not making this deal the same year I’m making this turd sandwich of a deal…..nor am I following up with trading a first round pick to give this #!$$! $14 million a year or finally paying $10 million for a man who was so worthless that a D-leaguer was getting his minutes while eventually scoring as many points in the 2017 NBA playoffs as, yep, the person who is typing this. With Bird at the helm and Simon backing him up on these moves instead of getting actual NBA talent to regularly play NBA games, the results speak for themselves.

And now the drama continues.

The NBA’s free agency period begins in a few days. I was hoping that whoever was running the Pacers would at least look like they had SOME kind of plan going other than acting like it was all bada— to get the 7th seed by competing down to the last game of the regular season for a lowly playoff spot each year.

Alas, I think not.

So the best thing for me to do is to get ready for more PG related drama and more inept Pacers front office work while taking a page from fellow native Hoosier Michael Jackson:

Image result for michael jackson popcorn gif

Your move, young Pritchard.

As for Bird….for all the good you did from 2012-14, even the iconic Stevie Wonder can see that you and your boys really f—–d things up these past three years. But if your boss approves and wants to give you and your boy Walsh a lifetime gig, so be it.

I said long ago that an organization’s commitment to Walsh-who oversaw the team’s self-destruction after the 2004 brawl in Detroit as he allowed Ron Artest to go full Ron Artest- is a commitment to mediocrity. And since Walsh still picks up a hefty check from the Simon clad, it’s best for me to not expect much else.

Best wishes to PG13 wherever it is he may end up at. Meanwhile I shall prepare for the TJ Leaf era and assume Bird’s fetish to find the next Larry Bird to go with the next Nate ‘Tiny’ Archibald will continue to dominate the team’s mindset no matter what job title he may have. As for Pritchard, as mentioned on earlier posts dude’s the man who once picked a senior citizen in training over future Hall of Famer Kevin Durant the last time he got to run an NBA franchise. That turned out real well. So call me skeptical about TJ Leaf being the new modern day warrior of professional sports.

Hope this time you can do better, Big Kev. Admittedly after Bird’s past three years, you probably couldn’t do any worse.  And I’ll give you this much-at least there’s no more Lavoy Allen on the roster, and since I assume Leaf has a pulse that’s one upgrade for 2017-2018. May be the only one, but one nonetheless.

Jeff

fitzthoughtsblog.wordpress.com